


Walking Dead Christmas

by CQueen



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-19
Updated: 2014-12-19
Packaged: 2018-03-02 05:38:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2801570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CQueen/pseuds/CQueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yeah...this is a Walking Dead version of 'Twas the Night Before Christmas'.  </p><p>Merry Christmas lol</p>
            </blockquote>





	Walking Dead Christmas

**Author's Note:**

  * For [blaschko](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blaschko/gifts).



A present for blaschko, Merry Christmas even though you don't celebrate it.

Walking Dead Christmas

Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the farm  
Not a creature was stirring, except in the barn;  
The walker ears were hung by Daryl with care,  
In hopes that his brother soon would be there;

The survivors were nestled all snug in their beds,  
Glen with visions of Maggie dancing in his head;  
And I in my uniform, and Carl wearing my cap,  
Had just settled down for a long winter's nap,

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,  
I sprang from my bedding to see what was the matter.  
Away to the tent flap I flew like a flash,  
Tore open the zippers and threw up the sash.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow  
Gave the lustre of mid-day to tents below,  
When, what to my police trained eyes should appear,  
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer,

With a little old driver, so lively and quick,  
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.  
More rapid than gunfire his coursers they came,  
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;

"Now, DASHER! now, DANCER! Don't shoot my deer, DIXON!  
On, COMET! on CUPID! Gun down, Andrea, you VIXEN!  
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!  
Now don't shoot! don't shoot! don't shoot all!"

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,  
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,  
So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,  
With the sleigh full of supplies, and St. Nicholas too.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof  
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.  
As I gave the all clear, and was turning around,  
Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.

He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,  
And his clothes were all tarnished with bloodstains and soot;  
A bundle of provisions he had flung on his back,  
And he looked like a refugee just opening his pack.

His eyes - how they twinkled! his posture how wary!  
His cheeks were like roses, his nose shaped like Lori's!  
His droll little mouth was drawn up like Daryl's bow,  
And the beard of his chin was as white as Hershel's;

The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,  
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath;  
He had a broad face and a little round belly,  
That shook, when he laughed, like a walker's full belly.

He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,  
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;  
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,  
Soon gave me to know he wasn't one of the undead;

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,  
And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk,  
And laying his finger aside of his gun,  
And giving a nod, up the chimney he spun;

He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,  
And away they all flew like a shot from a pistol.  
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,  
"HAPPY CHRISTMAS TO ALL, EVEN THE WALKERS TONIGHT!


End file.
